


Last goodbye

by Black96



Category: Dark Souls (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black96/pseuds/Black96
Relationships: Dragon Slayer Ornstein/Original Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Last goodbye

Dark halls and stench of rot. He was ready for it, or so he thought. He walked through the tunnels, two human guards following close behind, sweat dripping down their brows. They were frightened and he knew why. The state of the Asylum was deplorable to say the least. The halls were filthy, floors covered in substances he didn't want to think about. Rats and others vermin were roaming around as if they owned the place, one running through his feet before disappearing in a hole in the wall. He let a groan escape him at the sight, the two men behind him whimpering in fear. To think they would let it decay like this?! Ornstein was having a hard time keeping his cool as he proceeded forward, his mind filled with only one thought. To see her one last time, before it was too late.   
The last to visit her was Artorias before he left for Oolacile on a special mission that was going to take a long time. He told the others that she looked fine, but that the curse was progressing more and more with each day that passed. Soon, she'll be no different from the other unfortunate souls that shared her sad fate, hollow. Ornstein shivered at the thought, cursing himself for always postponing the visit, for trying to run away and avoid the painful reality that haunted him at night. As he walked through the dark halls towards her cell, he recalled that faithful day, when Artorias barged into the infirmary with her in his arms, blood gushing out from her wounds, her face pale and filled with horror as her death was drawing near. He still couldn't remember why he was there that day, that detail eluding him every time, but he could see every single detail, relieve every single second from the moment his friend brough her in, to the one where she gave her last breath. The most agonizing moments of his life. No matter how many times it happened, losing a dear one was something he could never get accustomed too. The grief, the fear. They all washed over him like furious waves, ready to crush ships and drown every single sailor they could.   
When she woke up, the Darksign embedded into her chest, she accepted her fate with dignity and followed the knights to the Asylum without protest. Ever since, the others would pay her a visit from time to time, Ciaran and Artorias especially. He was the only one who never set foot in that place, always making up excuses as to why he could never make the time to go. He had too many documents to sign, the silver knights needed more training, he had patrols to make. Reasons over reasons, walls that could shield him from the horrible reality of what she had become.   
"Do you even care about her?!" Ciaran shouted at him once, exasperated by his resistance.  
He didn't answer her. Too much to say, not enough words. Of course, he cared. She was a knight of Gwyn, after all, one of them! But he couldn't bear to soil her memory with what she was now. He wanted to remember her just as she had always been, a gentle human woman with too much strength for her own good, who couldn't tell a joke to save her life, but still tried, someone who always looked out for others, whose naivety made her get in trouble all the time, trouble that, of course, he had to get her sorry butt out off. But he never minded that. How strange.  
"We've arrived, sir." a human guard said, snapping him out of his thoughts.  
He lifted his eyes to look at the sight in front of him, trying his best to not break down there and then. There she was, wearing a leather armor, her silver one having been taken before she was brought here. Her once smooth and pinkish skin was now dark, wrinkled and dry, resembling leather. Her bright, red hair had lost its shine, having darkened in color as well. The brown irises that he had grown to love were nowhere to be seen, and instead there were only black holes, devoid of all life. Pink lips that he had kissed only once on a drunken dare were dry and pale, her freckles lost to the curse too. She was sitting on a rag in the corner of the cell, a rat passing by her in its haste to look for shelter. In the past, she would have screamed her lungs out every time she saw as much as a bug on the walls. Now, there was nothing. The woman he was secretly in love with had died there, on that bed in the infirmary, leaving nothing but a walking corpse behind, defiled by a curse that he grew to hate with all his being.  
"I..." she began, voice rough and coarse.  
Not at all what it once had been.   
"Am I sleeping? What are you doing here, captain?" she asked, getting up from her spot and approaching the metal doors that separated them.  
The question cut him deeper than he could believe, tears threatening to come out.  
"Is..." he began, coughing to smoothen his voice, hide the tremble underneath his calm demeanor. "Is my presence not welcome?"  
"How could it not be? I just feel sorry that the current conditions are not exactly...welcoming." she said, gesturing nervously to her surroundings.  
Really? That was what she was worried about?  
"Don't mind it. It's not your fault that someone is not seeing to their duties as they should." he said through clenched teeth, hearing the guards behind him whimper again.  
"Don't be so hard on them. They are guards not cleaning personnel." she replied, trying to divert his anger.   
Ah! There she was again. Always trying to diffuse the situation and keep things peaceful.   
"I...I guess you're right." he said, wishing to keep the visit as pleasant as possible. It was his first and last after all. "How are you doing?" he asked, trying to make conversation, but as soon as the question left his lips, he wanted to punch himself.   
"Very good, thank you for asking." she answered in a cheerful tone. "I got over my fear of vermin as you can see."   
"Wish you've done that sooner." he tried to joke, recalling a time when they were casually talking, and she suddenly screamed because she saw a cockroach ran across the floor near them.  
"Yeah." she said, looking at the floor and scratching the back of her head. "How have you been doing?"  
He began to tell her about his daily routine, of the accidents that sometimes happened during training, of Gough and his latest hunts, of Ciaran and Artorias who were planning to get married as soon as he would get back from his current mission, of Gwyn, of the prince and princesses. She listened to him eagerly, nodding and chuckling here and there. Neither of them realized how fast time went, fatigued and huger dared not touch them during the entire conversation. A last act of mercy from a fate that so far had brought nothing but sorrow. He enjoyed it, feeling as if they had returned back in time, when things were better, when he was secretly trying to court her but failed every time and she was obvious to all of his attempts. It was...relaxing and sad, excruciatingly so, for he had waited for so long to come see her and were it not for his friend's constant pestering , he would have never done so.  
"It's late. I think you should go." she said, looking at the hole in the ceiling through which light peered into her cell.  
"I...I guess." he agreed, clenching his fists, a small, silver item that he had been holding the entire time feeling a whole lot heavier than it was.  
A tiny voice inside his head urged him to do it, while another laughed at his intentions.  
"I was really glad to see you. Thank you for coming, captain." her voice pulled him back to reality, a hue of sadness and joy dancing beneath each word.  
"I'm sorry. I should have come see you sooner." he replied, but she stopped him.  
"Don't worry about that. I know you're busy after all and let's be honest, this is not the jolliest of places, am I right?" she gave him a smile, the pain in his chest growing more and more. "Well, see you."  
"Y-yeah. See you." he said and turned around, the guards behind him who were nearly falling off their feet from exhaustion straightening up and making room for him to pass through.  
As he walked away, he sensed the ring in his hand beginning to get heavier. He cussed himself for not giving it to her, not now, nor then.  
Once he was back in Anor Londo, he tossed it in a drawer of his desk in his chamber, unable to dispose of it properly. He crashed into the chair and began to sob violently, the mask of dignity and strength crushing down to expose the weak, damaged man he really was. If only he had seen her sooner. 


End file.
